


Secretary

by SpookshowBabyx



Category: House M.D.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 06:27:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1540967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookshowBabyx/pseuds/SpookshowBabyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House is being, well, House, and strives to irritate Cameron to ease his boredom. Tiring of always bearing the brunt of his cruel behaviour, she decides to take matters into her own hands and play a little game of her own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I had originally planned on doing this as one chapter, but I have an apparent inability to do one-shot smut (and I'm late for the pub). This was actually a prompt I was sent a while back for a Once Upon a Time fic instead, but it works a lot better with these characters, and I missed writing House. Hope you enjoy! Please comment :)

"Okay, okay, what else?"

House looks around the room at each of his three young employees in turn as he snaps his fingers. The action garners him a scowl from Foreman, a frown from Chase and a worried glance from Cameron, but not a single verbal answer from any of them.

"Well?!"

"House, we don't want to get involved in Cuddy's love life... It's kind of  _her_  business... The patient-"

"-Will live until tomorrow. Meanwhile, cats  _everywhere_  will die tonight if my curiosity isn't sated!"

The graying doctor growls down at the young brunette who shrugs and turns back to her paperwork. Rolling his eyes, House turns to the other two and raises an eyebrow.

"And what about you two? Are you going to go running to tell mommy as well?"

"I never _said_  I was going to-"

"- _Uhp_! Quiet, Cameron, the adults are talking!"

Chase smirks as Foreman lets out a tired sigh and shakes his head.

"Why do you _care_ , House?"

"Because, if the dragon is getting laid, that means I get to do things like _this_ -"

The blond flinches with a cry of indignation as House smacks him smartly across the back of his head

"-And get away with it. It means her reign of terror is directed towards the bedroom rather than the workplace, and all us village people can breathe a sigh of relief."

"Kind of sounds like someone _else_  needs to get some action too..."

The younger men both twist back in their seats in surprise to ogle at the brunette, but Cameron doesn't look up from the neat notes she makes beside House's messy scrawl, although her cheeks pinken ever so slightly.

"Don't make me send you to my office, Dr Cameron..."

House leers with a sordid wink towards the two boys to hide his own surprise at the young immunologist's bold statement. Cool green glances up at him slowly; the young brunette looking thoroughly unimpressed.

House notes that from his current angle he can see down her shirt.

_Too bad there's nothing to look at._

His inner dialogue causes him to cringe; irritably aware of the lightning fast response of his defenses when it comes to his youngest employee, and thus beginning to wonder if maybe there isn't something Freudian to it after all.

Gathering himself, he glares at her accusingly, as though it is her intention to frustrate him the way she does, and turns to the others.

"Well, we can't sit around gossiping all day. Chase, go get some fluids, Foreman, you're on the patient's history; believe nothing."

He catches the brunette open her mouth out of the corner of his eye and barks at her swiftly.

"Cameron, you carry on with my filing."

She looks up at him incredulously as Chase and Foreman hurry from the room with twin glances of sympathy in their colleague's direction.

Raising an eyebrow and waiting for her to bitch about whatever point she's going to try and make- when they  _both_  know she'll do what he says eventually- he limps a little closer to the desk.

"Hardly a good use of my time."

"Oh, I'd argue it's a brilliant gift to _my_  time... After all, I'm a doctor; don't want to be kept from my work by menial secretarial tasks..."

"...Well, then _, Dr_  House... I suppose it's a good thing that I finished your filing about a week ago. Everything's sorted. Problem solved."

House finds it easy to hide his surprise that the chaos of his paperwork has been neatly corralled under the quiet diligence of the brunette; it is her nature, after all. He has a harder time however, trying to deal with the various reactions the smug little smile that currently graces her lips tries to pull from him.

_Fuck, but she has a pretty smile._

Unable to give her this one, to simply reward her with a metaphorical- never physical, he can't touch her, no, mustn't touch her- pat on the back for a job well done, he smiles at her dryly with crystal blue eyes.

He feels like an ass even before the heavy folder of paper- patient files Ne to Su- crashes down onto the threadbare carpet in a flurry of illegible notes and neat black cursive.

 _Knows_  he's an ass.

She stares down dully at the mess that covers really quite an impressive area about the desk, and when she looks back up at him he wonders for a brief moment if she's going to cry, but her glittering gaze remains stony and her words are low and controlled.

"You're an ass."

Oh. He knows.

Brushing her anger away with practiced ease, he shrugs and pulls a lollipop from his pocket; twirling it childishly on his tongue before heading off towards his office with a shrug.

"As I said, Cameron, you're on filing duty. Place is a mess."


	2. Chapter 2

House watches from his office as his youngest employee goes slowly about collecting up the papers he has sent flurrying to the floor with his lollipop held pensively askew between his teeth. Cameron kneels with her head bowed over the assorted documents, her long hair tumbling forwards as she sits with her back to him; her waistcoat exposing childishly slender arms, and the delicate blades of her shoulders rippling pleasantly beneath sparsely freckled skin as she works.

Following the gentle curve of her spine downwards, House eyes the narrow dip of her waist- complimented by a delicate silver buckle which he imagines has to be clasped at its smallest notch- and raises an eyebrow appreciatively as this leads to bare, pale flesh as she leans forwards to reach for a far-flown sheet of paper; unwittingly flashing him the shallow dimples at the very small of her back.

He scolds himself when he realizes he sits leant forward in his seat in the hopes of catching a glimpse of her underwear.

He pulls back swiftly, but not before rolling his eyes as his brain is busy cataloguing the fact that he can discern no visible panty-line at the pleasant round of her ass, despite her slacks hugging pert flesh mercilessly.

_Thong._

_Or maybe nothing at all..._

Shaking himself from such thoughts sternly, he is surprised when he glances back up to find that she looks over her shoulder at him with an ill-attempted scowl; the small pull to the side of her mouth all too telling.

"Stop staring at my ass!"

She mouths it soundlessly, and from the way she widens her eyes in a burlesque display of incredulity he knows she's just fucking with him.

A rather bold move from the often blush-happy immunologist.

Leaning purposefully forward and narrowing his eyes, he trains his attention entirely on firm, globed flesh, causing her to roll her eyes and turn back to the task at hand. Smirking- while trying to tell himself that her messing about is more childish than it is entertaining- he shakes his head and pulls the bare stick of his sucker from his mouth with an audible pop.

Standing to toss the small, white stub in the trash, he raises an eyebrow as she leans all the way forward- exposing a narrow wisp of harlot's red- and he feels his blood thrum just a little faster. Unable to tear his eyes away as she continues to leaf through papers she could  _surely_  just as easily pull towards her, he frowns pensively.

_Is our shy little doctor putting on a display...?_

Knowing who she is- knowing that it's Cameron- he should automatically discard the idea as ludicrous.

_And yet..._

It has been a long time since their disastrous date- almost six months now- but, while she has told him flat out that she no longer harbors any feelings for him, he has caught her looking at him in a way which suggests otherwise on several occasions since. Has even played  _along_  with it recently; making sure she is forced to sit beside him in the DDX room, and allowing her to perch at the edge of his table in the lunchroom while stealing her fries like a schoolboy with a crush.

Six months has allowed a hell of a lot of growing up- growing resilient against his particular strain of dry humor- in the young brunette however, and she no longer cowers and quivers beneath his gaze, but merely reacts with a peculiar lazy humor of her own; the words that had once had her flustered and upset now seeming to glide off her fair skin like water.

Like oil.

 _Now_ there's _an image..._

Raising an eyebrow as he continues to study his young protégé, he comes to the curious conclusion that she really  _has_ spent a peculiarly long time in her current position. Walking over to stand in the doorway that separates the inner and outer office, he runs a hand over his mouth thoughtfully; surprised when she doesn't react to his close proximity to her.

He has always believed Cameron must have some kind of sensor for him; the young brunette always expectant when he approaches her.

Except for _now_  it would seem.

He is in two minds about how to treat his current situation. A part of him- the sane part- suggests sternly that he limp back into his office, take a seat at his desk, and draw the blinds. Another part of him though- and he holds no illusion that it is his mind that comes into play here, but rather a different piece of his anatomy altogether- drinks in flimsy scarlet against pale flesh and urges him to just close the distance between them and take her the way he is sure they have both imagined him doing since she started working for him.

He takes another step closer, sure by now that she must be aware of his gaze upon her.

_Just close the distance._

He wants to. It's been a long day, and despite his constant shunning of her affections, lust is lust, and to have her presented in such a way before him makes it hard to remember just why he has held her at arm's length in the past.

 _Because she's damaged goods. Just like you. Only,_ her  _heart seems much more likely to break, and the pieces may be too small to fit back together. You don't want to deal with that._

He frowns. He knows all this to be true, but he can't help feeling that maybe he isn't giving the young brunette enough credit. She had turned up after their date without a word, when he had thought she may just cut her ties with him and his often acidic tongue once and for all. She has shrugged off numerous quips and insults. Has expressed- much to everyone's surprise, and god knows what fantasies the other two had conjured at her words- that she deems a threesome a perfectly good way to keep a marriage alive. Has given him reason on  _several_  occasions now to think that she may not be quite the hopeless romantic he had imagined.

Has slept with  _Chase_  and refrained from making it into a big deal.

Oh. And hadn't  _that_  just kicked him right where it hurt.

_Why didn't she come to me?_

_Because. You would have sent her away._

Because she has feelings for him.

Is that so awful, though?

No. Not so awful, and he has a strong suspicion that if she were currently experiencing a wealth of heartfelt emotion which she'd inevitably end up being unable to deal with, she wouldn't be down on her knees in a way that she must  _know_  would have any man imagining her in that same position in a very different light.

_You best be sure on this. If you're wrong..._

If he's wrong, and he approaches her, then sure, he'll be an ass... But he doesn't believe he has misread her this time- any time- and he imagines that if worst comes to worst, she'll just brush it off as him being 'House'.

_So it's settled then._

He closes the distance between them slowly. Purposefully. Standing beside her so that he casts a shadow over her, and raising an eyebrow when she doesn't move. Placing a hand lightly on her shoulder, he brushes soft curls away from the nape of her neck in the process, and smiles at the audible hitch in her breath.

Yet still, she doesn't move.

"Is this you offering a solution to my little problem, Dr Cameron?"

His voice is gruff, businesslike, but his fingers linger at the lightly freckled flesh of her shoulder gently.

"What problem?"

Low. Casual. Quiet.

"I believe you were of the opinion that I was... How did you put it... 'In the need of some sweet action'?"

"You're paraphrasing..."

"You're deflecting. What are you doing, Cameron?"

"I'm sorting out the paper you threw all over the floor."

Her tone is light, cautious, and despite the fact that she sounds almost disinterested, he knows her well enough to detect the faint giddy tremor she strives so hard to hide.

"Get up."

She does as he says; moving slowly as the crisp fabric of her waistcoat drops elegantly back into place to cover the pale skin previously on display. House raises an eyebrow when she negates to turn to face him and nods in his approval. He stands just behind her, and her hair still falls to one side where he has removed it from her neck; offering him the inviting white column of her throat and the dusky shadow of her lashes. Touching his fingers lightly to her waist, her moves so that he holds her flush against him; breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo with slow leisure.

"Go wait in my office."

She moves away from him to obey his demand wordlessly, her stride relaxed and casual, her manner completely unflustered. Waiting until she disappears from view, House turns off the lights in the main DDX office and quickly plucks the papers from the floor; shoving them into an unorganized heap on her desk of later. He doesn't lock the door to the outer office as doing so would raise suspicion, but with the room cloaked in shadow and the blinds to his own office pulled, he is confident that the place appears deserted.

Moving back to the smaller room slowly, he stands thoughtfully in the doorway, studying the young immunologist as she looks back up at him casually from his own goddamned chair.

_Oh, this is indeed an interesting side to the young doctor._

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Waiting in your office."

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to give sass to your elders?"

"I don't think I've ever heard anyone actually  _use_  the word 'sass' before..."

"There you go again, Dr Cameron."

"Oops."

She looks up at him coyly and he suppresses a dry grin.

"Get out of my chair."

He moves over to where she sits, waiting for her to comply with his command. She pushes herself up lightly, standing patiently between chair and desk as though waiting to be told what comes next.

_Oh, she's good._

Ignoring her, he takes her recently vacated seat; spreading his legs a little to accommodate where she stands. Finding her narrow hips with strong hands, he coaxes her to turn around to face him, but not before running long, pianist's fingers swiftly over the soft material covering her ass. Presented with sharp peaks and taut flesh, he guides her firmly until she hops up onto the desk in front of him.

"You know, I don't appreciate you offering up such hurtful insinuations about my private life, Cameron."

"I apologize. It wasn't my intention to hurt you..."

She replies quietly, her eyes downcast, even though they both know full well that he'd felt no such thing. Leaning back in his chair, he studies her intently, her left leg dangling dangerously close to the crotch of his jeans.

"So what  _are_  your intentions?"

She glances up at him with a small smile, tossing her long hair back over her shoulder and he tries to comprehend how her eyes can remain so damn  _kind_  despite the fire within them.

" _My_  intentions?  _You_  were the one that told me to go wait in your office..."

_So that's how this is going to go?_

He wonders if it will be too much like a cheap porno if he tells her he plans on teaching her a lesson; hateful of the thought that she would laugh at him, despite inwardly knowing she wouldn't. Not spitefully, anyway.

Opting to go with the devil he knows, he trades insinuation for sarcasm; smirking at her dryly.

"Well, I had assumed you'd prefer to do this in the office... Or was that little display of exhibitionism a simple  _taster_  to your kinks? I'm game wherever... Cafeteria's always an option? Plenty of vegetables and questionable sticky substances..."

He grins as she blushes furiously, only to choke on his own breath as she surprises him by speaking quietly; her voice like syrup and completely foreign to him in all the best ways.

"Oh, no, your desk will do just fine."

Clearing his throat, he regards her shrewdly, resting his hand gently on her skinny knee and gliding his fingers slowly up the inside of her thigh.

"If this is some sort of ploy to get back at me... I suggest you come clean about it right now, Cameron..."

"Or what? Or there's no going back? You're going to fuck me whether I beg or scream or cry? Going to teach me a lesson?"

Her wording shocks him as much as it fascinates him, and he sincerely hopes his reaction to her crass language isn't as painfully obvious as it feels pressing against the rough denim of his jeans.

"...What if I said yes?"

He is joking- at least he thinks he is- dying to see how far she's willing to push this, while a niggling voice at the back of his mind voices its hope that she doesn't  _really_  think he'd do something like that to her. At least... He doesn't _think_  he would... But his thoughts become muddled when she raises a well-shaped eyebrow and regards him cooly.

"Are you?"

"...Yes."

"Just wanted to make sure we were both on the same page."

And with that she slips off the desk, and his initial reaction is to force her back against the table, but she makes no move to break free from the prison of his legs, instead simply leaning forwards with her palms resting firmly on the arm-rests of his chair; her gaze level with his own. He leans forwards to taste her on instinct, and she closes her eyes and lets him; making no move of her own, but keeping her lips delicately parted as she breathes softly and tries to calm her racing heartbeat. As he raises his hands to pull her onto his lap- fuck his leg- she pulls away; smirking at the wary look of annoyance he offers her in a way that is uncharacteristically cruel.

"Cameron, are you fucking  _kidding_  me?! Are you-"

He quietens instantly as his throat closes up; the young brunette dropping to her knees with a peculiar grace and looking up at him cooly with a lazy smile of amusement.

_Bitch._

And if there was ever a time he has used the term as a compliment, it is now. Closing his eyes as she drags her nails slowly up the insides of his thighs- her ministrations delicious over rough denim- he freezes when her slender fingers come to rest at the button of his Levi's and holds his breath.

She chuckles huskily at his response, and he almost growls at her to shut up lest she ruin him then and there. Watching her beneath hooded lids as she goes about releasing him from the confines of his boxers, he shudders as she leans forward and takes him slowly between her lips.

At first, the young brunette keeps her ministrations shallow, tasting him delicately and taking her time. He pulls a handful of silken curls into his fist, but the action has her stiffening instantly and he immediately lets go; gently stroking mussed tresses back into place while surprising himself that he should feel the need to do so. She glances up at him- her green eyes beautifully blown- and takes a moment to speak to him firmly.

"Don't push me down on you. I don't like that."

He nods silently as she continues what she'd started, resisting the urge to express his amazement she is performing such a sordid act at _all_ ; the fact that she kneels willing before him somewhat of a surprise. He would be lying if he said he hadn't pictured her using her mouth in just such a fashion on several occasions, but he had imagined that, in reality, oral would be something to which the shy young immunologist was opposed.

_Like letting you take her on your own damn desk, you mean?_

The thought makes him a little dizzy, and he growls as he glances down at her with gritted teeth. Pulling her up none too gently, he regards her hungrily as she slowly licks her lips; her pretty eyes wide.

"Fuck..."

Incredibly, his hissed expletive earns him a shy smile, and he pushes her roughly against the table as he towers over her. Making quick work of the clasp to her slacks, he pulls them swiftly down her slender thighs, finding her mouth with his.

"Stop, stop... House... House!"

He pulls back irritably after he becomes hazily aware that she pushes at his chest with both hands. Glaring at her in confusion, she grins apologetically and steps gracefully out of the bunched linen that pools at her feet. Shrugging, she deftly unbuttons her shirt- much to his appreciative surprise- and moves to fold her waistcoat, sleeveless shirt and slacks to lay in a neat pile in the corner.

"I have no spares in my locker... If they get all creased, it'll look... Kind of only one way your clothes do that, you know?"

Her voice is light, and House finds himself once more a little unnerved by just how well she matches him at this. Whatever he had expected from his young doctor should this particular fantasy ever come to fruition... This is far from it.

Not that he's complaining.

She stands nervously with her hands clasped behind her back as he allows his eyes to roam over pale flesh hungrily. He is inwardly bemused at his own mind as a million thoughts battle themselves to the forefront of his brain, and he scolds them gruffly to be quiet.

As much as he is an inquisitive soul, he currently has more important things to do than ask her how often she works out. How old she was when she got the small scar to her left hip. Whether she waxes or shaves. If all of her underwear is slightly sheer or if it's just a Thursday thing. If the telling nick just above her navel is because her parents found out their little princess went and got her bellybutton pierced or whether she simply tired of wearing it that way.

"Get back on the desk."

She hops up lightly, and he muses inwardly on the fact that it's going to be a little hard to get much work done knowing the brunette has sat there with just a narrow wisp of scarlet acting as a barrier between herself and the tabletop. Moving to stand before her, he taps at her knee firmly and she opens her legs to allow him to move between them.

"How the hell did Chase let you go without a fight..."

"... Can we not talk about Chase right now?"

She mutters awkwardly and he grins, lunging suddenly forward to bite gently at her throat as his scruff grazes her jaw roughly. He imagines she'll have to be careful to keep her hair falling a certain way to cover his markings, but doesn't really give a shit just now.

"No, you're right, let's not talk about the Wombat... But any man who could have this-"

He palms her ass roughly, biting down on her clavicle as she yelps in his ear

"-And doesn't appreciate it is a fool."

She frowns, aching to ask him who the hell he thinks he is telling her something like that- heat of the moment or not- when he knows full well he is the  _one_  person who could have always had what she has to offer. The words get caught in her throat as strong fingers pluck crimson lace deftly aside and find her wetness eagerly.

"House..."

Unlike her earlier ministrations, his are fast and rough; moving rapidly as her harsh breath whispers against his ear causing him to smile. When she begins to squirm against him, he finds her lips passionately and demands dominance of her tongue; forcing her over the edge skillfully while hungrily swallowing the quiet noises she makes in response.

"Fuck, I-"

Her voice is hoarse and breathless, and he makes a note to tell her at some other, less critical time that when an innocent, pretty little girl uses such language, she's just asking for trouble. Deciding to take heed of what may or may not have been a request for the time being, he finds her narrow hips blindly, pulling her clumsily off the desk and turning her round so that her stomach pushes against its side and her backside rubs against the crotch of his open-flied jeans.

"Stay put."

He growls at her firmly, marvelling at the way the muscles of her thighs flex sporadically with the aftershock of his recent affections, as her ribs flutter rapidly with her shallow breaths. Stripping himself of his jeans and boxers, he kicks them absently-mindedly to the side, before moving behind her and hooking his finger into the flimsy waistband of her underwear. Dragging wet lace down her legs with cruel deliberation, he chuckles when she huffs audibly and wiggles her hips in impatient invite.

"Patience is a virtue, Cameron."

She sighs irritably, and he decides to take pity on her before she starts mouthing back at him. Pushing her roughly down against the desk, he enters her swiftly, growling when she lets out a low cry and placing his hand over her mouth; not convinced either of them really want the entire hospital to know what they're getting up to.

"Shhh!"

He admonishes gruffly in her ear, but he slows his thrusts considerably to allow her to adjust to him; blue eyes trained intently on her as she buries her face into the crook of her elbow with her eyes squeezed shut. Pulling her hair away from her neck, he brushes his mouth softly over the delicate vertebra at her nape while snaking his hand around to her stomach to create a buffer between her soft flesh and the hard wood of the desk.

"Okay?"

"Bitchin'..."

Her response has him laughing despite himself, and he bites down on the smooth skin of her shoulder in reprimand for making him feel quite so comfortable with her like this.

_It's just sex. Don't... Don't get all 'Cameron' over this._

She mewls quietly as he increases his pace; his hips now taking on a frantic rhythm as he pants into her hair. It is a delicious position, but it is quickly taking its toll on his leg, and he refuses to request the young brunette to move as he knows she'll guess the reason for him doing so instantly. Deciding instead to speed things up a bit, her slips his hand a little lower, grinning slyly when she jerks in surprise beneath him and hisses a colorful little string of words under her breath.

"You close?"

He whispers gruffly beside her ear, feeling his own release fast approaching. She nods silently, but from the little he can see of her face, he imagines the set of her jaw and the harshness of her breath is all too telling.

"Ok, baby."

He wonders briefly where in the fuck  _that_  came from; not able to recall ever calling anyone by such a sickeningly sweet term of endearment before, and hopes she hasn't registered his little slip-up. Banishing such thoughts with violent movements of his hips, he bites down roughly on pale flesh as the attention of his fingers below the desk have the brunette tensing tellingly beneath him as he collapses on top of her.

They stay that way for what seems like a decidedly long time; House running a finger gently over the reddened marks caused by his teeth as Cameron remains pinned blissfully beneath him. Pushing up from her slowly in fear of crushing her small frame, he regards her silently as she relaxes a little before pushing herself up off the desk and bending down to slide her underwear back on.

"You okay?"

He enquires awkwardly, reaching for his jeans distractedly.

"Perfect."

She smiles at him sweetly; pulling her slacks up gracefully and fastening them at her skinny hips. He glances at her bra as he buttons his jeans, silently lamenting the fact he has failed to even get the young immunologist fully naked. She catches the direction of his gaze easily and offers him a small grin as she dons her shirt and waistcoat. Shaking out her long hair and pulling it back into a ponytail, she looks unfairly unflustered given the fact she was so recently coming undone on his desk.

"We get off at eight tonight... If you were, uh, curious about anything... My only plans involve a bottle of merlot and chinese food."

With that, she gives him a brilliant smile and slips swiftly from the room; leaving him to think upon her suggestion with a stunned expression gracing his finely weathered features.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised I completely forgot to pull this chapter over when copying from Fanfic to here. This chapter is new to AO3. The next was previously listed as chapter 3. Sorry!

Staring down at the light layer of dust that sits upon the dashboard, House runs one, long finger over the small emblem that centres the steering wheel thoughtfully. About twenty minutes has passed since he got into his car- his bike vetoed due to heavy rain when leaving the house- but he has yet to slot the key into the ignition.

He needs to decide where he's  _going_  first.

His sanity grumbles at this notion; arguing for what feels like the hundredth time that the only sensible course of action is for the graying doctor to travel the familiar route home, stopping only for the purpose of purchasing whatever bourbon happens to be on deal at the small store that marks the halfway point of his trip.

His  _sanity_  pounds its fists and shakes its head angrily, while some other- darker- part of his mind conjures the image of sharp, white teeth clamped over a pleasantly pink bottom lip and sooty lashes clenched tightly shut in ecstacy.

_Cameron._

Had it been anyone else, he might now doubt the invitation to stop by with such thinly veiled intent, but he knows the brunette well- at least he had thought he did before today- and he takes her offer for a good time as just that.

Sighing, he resorts to running his finger counter-clockwise to erase the progression his slow circles have made.

His case- once free of the younger doctor's company- had been disturbingly ineffective in keeping his full attention; his concentration wandering sordidly as flickering pictures of dark hair and pale skin had clouded his mind.

This predicament is one he finds a little disconcerting; he is no longer a young man, and his sex drive has become affected accordingly. For years now- more or less since Stacy left- he has lived a carnal life of release, followed by subsequent periods of peace.

Simply content to have that itch scratched once in a while and leave it at that.

Sure, his imagination wanders frequently, as he imagines is true of most people- the object of his current pondering one such vague fantasy on several occasions- but it is a lazy want; more for amusement than tangible desire.

He imagines apathy has its part to play in things as well as his getting on in years.

Not to mention a strong dislike for the company of others.

 _Ah, but she's not all_ that _bad in the grand scheme of things..._

He frowns irritably, as he supposes there exists some truth in this newest thought. Despite telling her otherwise, he has come to find that he likes the brunette well enough. She amuses him... As well as being easy on the eye.

Still, to find himself as he does now- both confused and and once more aroused- has been unchartered territory for a while.

He recalls several conversations with Wilson pertaining to the young immunologist back when she had been fairly new in her position, and sighs as he knows now- as he supposes he had then, also- that she does indeed have an unusual effect on him.

"Yes, but she _also_  has the ability to crawl beneath your skin in a way the others don't..."

True. Cameron as she had been earlier today had proven to be absolutely exquisite... But Cameron hurt and heartbroken is something he imagines he would do well to avoid.

Not out of any real care for her, but rather finding her to be insufferably emotional and vulnerable at the best of times.

_Slim fingers pulling up thin linen. Lean muscle rippling below delicately stacked ribs. That knowing smirk as his gaze had fallen mournfully to the pretty lace covering her breasts._

No, his sanity is most certainly not in accordance, but that small, impish grin has served to spark his interest still, despite it having being so recently sated. For one, he supposes the brunette's mere aesthetics would pose a weak argument for lack of wanting, but that hint of a challenge- that heated spark in her smile- leaves him with a very difficult offer to resist.

Closing his eyes- and wondering how in the hell today has turned out the way that it has- he finally starts the engine and backs out of the hospital's parking lot.

At the junction, he turns right instead of left.

* * *

Regarding herself in the large mirror that hangs over the sink in the bathroom, Cameron cocks her head to the side and pulls her hair back away from her face with her hand; angling her jaw first one way and then the other, before letting it drop back down to tumble down the front of her shirt.

She leans a little closer towards the glass and narrows her eyes with a frown.

Sighing, she straightens back up with a shrug of slim shoulders.

To study and analyse herself in such a fashion is unlike her. Most days, the mirror is simply used for brushing her teeth, splashing water into her face, and the quick application of masacara and the occasional hair tie or couple of clips. She takes little interest in her appearance; knowing from general affirmative comments that her look and features are generally considered to be desirable, and happy to leave it at that.

She knows she's attractive, and knows that she takes good care of herself and that it shows.

To dwell on the fact seems- to her- to be nothing but a practise in pointlessness.

Still, now, as she scrutinizes her reflection, she nibbles at her lip as she finds her mind infested with thoughts of eyeshadow, blush, curls and jewelry.

"Stop this... He probably won't even show..."

No, there is a fairly good chance that he won't...

_He will... He wants to know what he missed out on... He needs the final pieces to the puzzle..._

She sighs. To think of herself as little more than an object of the graying doctor's entertainment leaves her uneasy, but then she supposes this entire situation is rather out of character and rife with insecurities.

She is still a little surprised by her earlier actions; raising an eyebrow at herself in the mirror, as she allows a small smile at the thought that her final acceptance of irritation and surrender to House's whims ended up garnering her the interest and affection that her tentative and hopeful advances had not.

_'Affection' is a rather strong word for fucking you over a desk._

The corners of her mouth turn down, but she can't help but challenge such logic with the memory of the older doctor's hand buffering the hard edge of the table, and his careful patience when he had buried himself so sweetly into her.

Tonguing her teeth pensively, she decides to think on  _this-_  and the way he had asked her if she was okay- rather than the depression that threatens to taint their little tryst at thoughts of House's previous clear statements that he bares her no interest.

Supposing there is little she can do about the matter either way- what's done is done, and so on and so forth- she plucks an infrequently used kohl pencil from the meagre collection of makeup stacked on the windowsill and lines her eyes carefully.

"It's not like I'm doing this just in case he comes..."

She lies- not even fooling herself- before rolling her eyes at her own expense as her pale hand navigates seemingly of its own accord to a small tube of pale cherry lipstick.

"Idiot..."

But, even as the word leaves painted lips, she reveals neat, white teeth in an uncharacteristically sinful smile as the muted drone of the buzzer heralds her attention to the fact that she has a visitor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised I completely forgot to pull the last chapter over when copying from Fanfic to here. Chapter 3 is new to AO3. This current chapter was previously listed as chapter 3. Sorry!

When Cameron opens the door, House debates whether to smile or frown; unsure what the protocol for such an occasion might be.

He almost smiles-  _almost_ \- when she pulls back painted wood, as she offers him such a predictable curve of her lips and raising of her brow that it is hard not to find himself a little more at ease.

She looks different, though.

Eyes darker.

Hair messier than she lets it get at work.

And such small changes leave him tense with a sense of unfamiliarity.

It is not that the resultant look is unappealing, but rather that it's quite the opposite.

It's sexy.

And _entirely_  intentional.

"Hi..."

She offers amiably enough, leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed casually over the soft wool of her sweater. She has changed since coming home, and the grey cashmere spreads out wide in the form of a deep V that gives him pretty good reason to believe she wears only her bra beneath.

Realising he has been standing out on the landing staring at the brunette expressionlessly for a little too long now, House simply grunts and limps past her into the warmth of her apartment.

Taking a cursory look around, he makes a B-line for the barstools that bookend her kitchen island and props his cane against the weathered butcher's block.

The young doctor's apartment is predominantly open-plan, and it is a room he knows well, despite only having paid her a couple of visits in the past.

He knows it well because it had  _interested_  him when he had first invited himself over, just as it interests him now.

Her books- more than any normal person could ever possibly read- line the far wall with their creased jackets facing out militantly. Dozens of them take the form of severe-looking medical journals, but a surprisingly large collection of fantasy and adventure novels flank their sides.

Several simply framed pieces of art dot neat, white walls, and he knows that the muted screen-prints are her own because he had long ago gotten his hands on a copy of the young brunette's yearbook before hiring her.

 _High-school_  yearbook no less.

An interesting read, and it is by this same token that he knows Foreman had once sat at the head of the debate team, and that the wombat had- once upon a time- taken an amusingly keen interest in bowling.

It's  _also_  how he knows that little Allie Cameron had preferred paint to pompoms, and he supposes that had been one of the things that had drawn him to her: a pretty young woman with seemingly no concept of how to play this to her advantage.

Antisocial but kind.

Well-spoken but awkward.

Shaking himself from his reverie as she asks him if he might like anything to drink, he clears his throat and inquires if she has any bourbon. She nods and reaches for a couple of tumblers- her sweater riding up to allow a flash of pale flesh- and proceeds to fill them generously with ice and amber. Glancing up from beneath sooty lashes as she slides him his glass, he surmises that- right now- she doesn't appear to be fitting quite so  _neatly_  into the little box he has fashioned for her.

Right  _now_ , she doesn't appear to be awkward in the  _slightest_.

"Help yourself to food if you want."

She tilts her jaw towards a couple of grease-speckled boxes and he feels his lip twitch with amusement.

"You ordered chinese..."

"I said I would."

She answers simply enough- perching lightly up on the stool to face him- but he doesn't believe her carefree tone for a second, and this gives him back some of his confidence.

To anybody else, the small stack of boxes might seem of little interest- save for their sodium rich contents- but to him, they speak of incredibly careful planning.

Four boxes in total.

With the size of each one, their combined offering doesn't seem like much more than a light meal between two... In fact, one could _almost_  order the same amount for just themselves, if willing to put in a little extra effort towards the end.

An  _unassuming_  amount, in other words.

So as not to look like she's ordered with the hopeful expectation that he might show up.

Plucking a spring roll from the greasy carton nearest to him, House chews slowly, watching with interest as the brunette picks at a serving of noodles with a pair of chopsticks and practiced finesse.

"How's the patient? Did Foreman get the lab results back after I left?"

She enquires, and the older doctor sighs at Cameron's pitiful attempt at small talk.

As if the _real_  reason for him being here isn't heavy in the air between them.

"I don't really remember. I was rather preoccupied."

"Oh?"

An arched brow and an impish glitter shrouded by midnight lashes and he wonders if she knows that sitting forwards the way that she does allows him a glimpse into the shadows of her sweater.

She tucks her hair behind her ear in a seemingly casual manner, and he imagines she does.

"Trying to work at my desk was a little distracting."

"You could have worked in the DDX room."

She offers airily, and his eyes flash as she shakes back long curls with a small grin. She studies him intently, and he holds her gaze in a way that had once sent her lashes fluttering sheepishly down to break away from such intensity, but tonight she seems unafflicted by such nervousness.

He can feel the affect of the brunette's sudden boldness straining against dark denim, and thinks- not for the first time- that she is a rather despicable little minx indeed for having kept this side of herself so well hidden.

It doesn't seem entirely fair...

"I didn't plan what happened earlier, if that's what you're trying to figure out... I really  _was_  just picking up those papers, but then I caught you staring, and I guess I just figured I'd experiment... I mean, you  _know_  I like you. Not as hopelessly as before- well, not _hopelessly_  at all now, I guess- but I'd always been interested in you. In you, and in fucking you... And cases like the one we have now where it's all just quite obvious from the start make me antsy."

 _... And there's that-_  the greying doctor muses _\- that insanely honest thing..._

It often throws him- that calm reveal of exactly what's on her mind- but in this instance, he clings to familiarity and smirks at her.

"Is that your way of saying that you were horny?"

"That surprises you?"

"Well-"

"-You're allowed to make dirty insinuations all day, but I'm supposed to be good and pure and unaffected by my body's occasional needs?"

Again, that bluntness, and he grins at her as she takes a sip from her tumbler.

" _Good_  little girls don't like to sate that need bent over a desk..."

"...Well there you go."

She sniffs, and House finds himself deeply amused as he detects a faint hint of irritation... But then he knows she doesn't take kindly to his frequent jocular admonishment for her innocent nature.

" _Not_  that I minded the view..."

"I have a nice ass."

She states with a seriousness that causes the older doctor to chuckle- and briefly wonder what in the hell he's still doing here; such easy, familiar banter not at all something he wishes to encourage- and she regards him stoically over the rim of her glass.

"You do."

"Good. Now finish your drink."

She speaks with authority, but he doesn't miss the slight waver of nerves that taints her tongue, and he smirks once more; knocking back the remainder of his poison and raising an eyebrow. Watching as Cameron hops down from her stool and stalks into the middle of the living room, he bites back an unwelcome little wave of fondness as she places her hands on her hips and shoots a pointed look towards the sofa and clears her throat awkwardly.

Taking heed of his protégé's ever-so-suave subtleness, he limps a little closer and hovers over time-worn upholstery; regarding her curiously.

"...I guess in the movies this tends to go a little more smoothly... I, uh, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't ask you how you wanted to do this... Or if you wanted to yet, and-"

"-I took two vicodin before I got here-"

"-House!-"

"-We can do this any way you'd like. And don't worry; if this was a porn flick, I'd be telling you with awkward authority- and shifty glances- to get on the sofa, and-"

"- Get on the sofa, House."

He stills.

Authority, yes, but she holds his gaze, and he finds himself doing as she says despite it going against the norm.

He decides it was the right choice when she lowers herself down to straddle him lightly.

"Am I hurting your leg?"

"Don't talk about that; it's not in the script."

He admonishes roughly, before claiming her lips hungrily and letting out a small groan as she leans into him and presses hot weight into his arousal. Running long fingers up slender thighs, he cups the firm flesh of her backside and encourages her to move against him. She complies obediently; circling her hips gently as he nips lightly at her tongue.

Perfect, until she gets off of him abruptly.

"What are you-"

"-If you want me to dry hump you, I'm going to do it properly."

She states simply, and he finds himself tickled once more by her words.

His humour evolves into something a little darker when she unfastens her jeans and wriggles out of them childishly, leaving her in just a scrap of black fabric. Smiling as she resumes her position, she closes her eyes as she begins to move once more, until House rocks her back slightly. Letting out a shuddered gasp as he slips his hand down between them to cup her heat, she obeys when he encourages her to lean back a little as he slowly teases her over damp, black cotton while studying her curiously.

"... You've always been interested in fucking me? Do you ever think about it when we're in a differential? When we're in the labs? When you're handing me my coffee?"

"What? Like  _you_  haven't imagined fucking  _me_  from time to time!"

"We weren't  _talking_  about _my_  fantasies, which, by the way, get  _especially_  kinky when it comes to that whole lab scenario, what with the microscopes and the litmus paper, and the weird smelling solutions... No, Dr Cameron, I want to know if you're ever sat behind your desk, typing away, with your little panties all wet the way they are now...?"

He applies a little extra pressure to accompany his words, and she bites her lip, but otherwise keeps her composure; denying him the satisfaction of blushing furiously and objecting to his crass little game. Instead, she simply shrugs- rocking her hips hard against his hand to trap his palm between her heat and his need uncomfortably- and raises a brow.

"Sometimes, but if it's ever distracting, I just take them off."

"Ho-aaah! That's cheating..."

She smirks, and raises herself just enough to allow him to remove his hand, before continuing her movements with a little more intent.

"Says who?"

"The higher powers that watch over men and women. A young woman can't just go telling her boss that she occasionally disappears to whip off her underwear!  _Especially_  young women that look like you!"

"Oh... Well, I guess that's too bad, then."

She grins, and he growls in return; biting at her bottom lip in rebuttal before guiding her off of him with strong hands at her hips. Answering her curious glance swiftly, he rids himself of his jeans a little gracelessly, before beckoning her to come back before him.

When she refuses, he frowns.

"What are you-"

"-Shirt and boxers too."

"... You're actually a little bossy, aren't you."

House notes with amusement, and she shrugs.

"Well, I imagine this might be a whole lot harder if you keep them on..."

"Perhaps, a little  _too_  much protection, I-"

His eyes widen suddenly and she regards him with a frown- perplexed- before understanding, and tapping her left arm dismissively.

"Got it covered."

"You-"

But he is unsure exactly what to say; forbidding himself vehemently to allow time for any of the sudden thoughts battling for dominance in his skull to speak.

 _You didn't even_  ask _her earlier..._

_... Half your age..._

_... Just fucked her over your desk without thinking..._

_...Cameron..._

Sensing House's sudden discomfort, the brunette sighs and steps in a little closer; slipping off the greying doctor's boxers, before working the buttons of his shirt. When she moves to drag down her own underwear, House finds himself suddenly distracted from his inner turmoil.

Pulling her back down onto the sofa with a measured look, the older doctor watches intently as the young immunologist lowers herself onto him with a low sigh. Kissing her deeply, he lets out a guttural groan as she begins to move once more; now with him inside her.

Plucking at the soft wool of her sweater, he guides the distracting material up and over her head; tossing it carelessly into the corner.

She regards him knowingly as he moves her fingers round to the clasp of her bra- flicking aside errant strands of her hair- and tenses her stomach muscles suddenly; eliciting a surprised growl.

"Shit..."

She giggles, and offers him a smirk; pulling her hair out of the way so that he can release her of delicate lace and finally view her in her entirety.

"Sorry..."

"No you're not... That was.. _. Fuck_..."

Rolling her eyes, she cocks her head as he drinks in pale flesh, before holding his damning blue gaze. Offering a small nod of warning, she tenses again- lines of muscle flickering shadow down her obliques- and smiles when he closes his eyes.

"I study medicine, you think I don't know a thing or two about-"

But her words give way to a cry as he uses his own surprising strength and hoists her off of him slightly before slamming up into her.

The resultant pain that shoots fire down his leg is damning, but the young doctor's reaction is a worthy reward; eyes shut and mouth open.

"Y-you better get moving... I'm not sure I can do that again..."

He warns, trailing his tongue down her throat before exploring the valley between her breasts, and she nods; warm fingers of pleasure radiating from her core and causing her inner muscles to quiver.

"O-okay."

And she moves once more, this time with clear intent, and he grips her thighs to help her along; sinewy muscle flexing against his palms.

"I'm going to come."

She states it bluntly- breathlessly, but bluntly- and he growls into her throat as the sudden fluttering of her silken walls offers him his own light-headed release, and he grips at her legs with bruising force as she digs her nails into the hard muscle of his shoulders and rides out the last tremors of her pleasure.

"Well fuck me..."

She chuckles huskily, once she trusts arms to push herself up, and House shakes his head, closing his eyes.

"Not again. Not all of us are still in our twenties, Dr Cameron..."

She smirks, pushing back the messy waves of her hair and regarding him politely; reading the slow waves of awkwardness beginning to ebb across his face with ease.

He wants to know what happens now...

Not willing to give him the satisfaction of ruining a perfectly pleasant evening, she turns for the kitchen and pads back to the counter; seemingly entirely unfazed as to the fact that she does so butt-naked.

"I don't know about you, but I could use another drink."

She offers simply; plucking the bottle of bourbon from the butcher's block before walking back and taking a seat. She leans against the armrest to her side and brings her knees up in front of her- long hair tumbling over her breasts- and takes a sip before offering him the bottle.

House tells himself not to get too comfortable.

After all, he could get used to this.


End file.
